


Into The Fire

by MOXerillaStixx



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ninjas, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:46:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26419702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MOXerillaStixx/pseuds/MOXerillaStixx
Relationships: Dean Ambrose | Jon Moxley/Seth Rollins | Tyler Black
Kudos: 5





	Into The Fire

Blood.

His hands were covered in it.

The smell of it was overpowering, he could feel the bile rising in his throat.

It was still warm. Just a few minutes ago, it had been inside a living creature. Now it was on his hands, his shirt, his face.

The blood dripped from his hands and vaguely, he wondered if it would stain the carpet. If it did, his father was going to kill him. He nearly laughed aloud at the thought of the word _kill_ , a few minutes ago, _kill_ was nothing more than an exaggeration for him. Now… He stared back at his hands.

In the dim light of the room, the blood looked almost black.

Somewhere behind him, he heard the whisper of cloth—the other man must have wanted him to hear him—the flicker of a switch, and then the lights came on.

Seth squinted at the sudden brightness, trying to take in the surroundings around him. The space that had previously been his, now bore his bodyguard's marks as well. The wooden chest of drawers that still bore scratch marks from his latest scuffle, the flat screen television that no longer worked because he had thrown a Shuriken at it and now, the latest addition, was the plush white carpet, stained green with blood.

Wait…

 _G_ _reen_?

He looked down.

Yes, green.

The monster's blood was green.

That was when he finally lost his nerve and, on shaking legs, ran to the bathroom to puke his guts out.

××××××

"You're weak."

That was the first thing he heard as he exited the bathroom, a wet cloth still held over his face.

His bodyguard was sitting on the couch, his sword lying on his lap, his attention focused solely on wiping it clean.

Ever since the brunette's run-in with an A-Class villain, his father had insisted on hiring a bodyguard for his own safety. Embarrassing images of tall, muscular men following him around had disappeared almost as soon as he met the ninja. Ambrose was almost the exact opposite of how Seth pictured a bodyguard. He was lean instead of bulky, forgoing the suit-and-tie outfit for a skintight bodysuit.

Instead of guns and batons, he favored swords and exploding Shurikens.

He wore a permanent look of disdain instead of the mysterious dark glasses that Seth had always pictured bodyguards wearing.

His father had hired him on a _money is no object_ kind of contract, with the only rule being _keep my youngest child safe._

He wished that the contract also included another rule. "And try not to be an ass about it." He mumbled to himself.

Dean was rude, crass and awfully convinced of his own superiority.

He had laughed at the way Seth jumped at shadows, terrified that a monster would materialize from them and grab him.

The plush apartment that his mother had worked so hard to furnish, Dean had scoffed at.

"This is why you're weak, you're surrounded by soft things. It's a wonder you don't suffocate in your sleep." He had said, and Seth remembered the flash of shame that he felt in his stomach at the words.

It was true, the apartment did look soft, from the thick, gray comforter to the cushioned sofa, his mother had gone to great pains to make sure that it was a comfortable place to live in.

He hated him.

He _should_ hate him.

But Dean had also saved his life, three times now.

The evidence of his latest efforts was still splattered across his bodysuit, coloring it green instead of black.

But instead of cleaning up after himself, his bodyguard's attention was on his _ninja-to_ , which he was cleaning meticulously with an old rag.

Seth opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

Dean noticed the movement and raised an eyebrow at him in question. "I couldn't care less what you're about to say but you're going to say it anyway."

"Thanks." Seth grumbled. "For saving me."

Dean scoffed. "I did what I was paid to do, nothing more."

Why wasn't he surprised?

"Thanks anyway." The brunette said stubbornly. No way was Dean going to make him feel bad about _thanking him_.

Seth didn't want to sit right next to him on the sofa, so he decided to go to the kitchen to make some hot chocolate. He didn't really want one, he just needed to do something with his hands.

They were itching to smack the ninja at the moment.

Feeling obligated to be a good host, he called out. "Want some?"

"No."

He shrugged. "More for me then."

Humming tunelessly as Seth prepared the ingredients, he tried to push the thoughts of what happened out of his head. He tried not to think about the blood on the carpet or the stained shirt that he left in the hamper.

It was no good, however, his hands were still shaking from the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

Most of all, he tried not to think about the bodyguard, still busily cleaning his weapons in the living room.

Or so he thought.

"You tried to fight."

He nearly dropped the bottle of milk.

Dean was sitting on the counter opposite of him, staring at him with an expression that was, for the first time, not disdain.

"What did you say?" He asked.

"You tried to fight. You're too weak to have won on your own---"

"Gee, thanks." Seth said sarcastically.

Dean ignored him and continued. "But you tried to fight."

"Then I ran. Is that what you were going to say?" He demanded. Dean didn't need to remind him of the way his heart nearly burst out of his chest when the monster had roared at him.

Once again, his words fell on deaf ears. "What did you try to use on it?"

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

The ninja shrugged as if say that his answer wouldn't matter one way or another.

"It was a stun gun, okay? My brother got it for me."

"Stun gun." Dean repeated. He made it sound like a dirty word.

Then, a smirk of his appeared. Seth hated that smirk, all sharp white teeth and no warmth in it at all.

"Is that what you use to protect yourself? Pathetic."

Before he could say anything in defense, there was a rush of cold wind, and the assassin was gone.

Good for him, because he might have broken the milk bottle on his head.

Seth could see him in the living room, pacing back and forth, occasionally tossing his head at a knickknack.

Seth didn't know why—his opinion shouldn"t matter to him—but he followed him.

"All this..." Dean said, and he swept his hand carelessly to indicate the apartment. "Is why you're weak. Stun gun, ha, you use it because it requires no skill to wield."

Seth didn't say anything.

There was a rustle of cloth, the whisper of a blade as it was unsheathed and suddenly, the ninja was right in front of him, close, close, too close. No room to maneuver, and nothing to do but look up at his face. Hw always thought that Dean looked stern, forbidding but from this distance, without a scarf covering his neck or a monster to grab his attention, Seth realized something...

He was actually quite handsome.

He looked away, hating himself for the flash of heat he felt on his face.

That was when he felt the pinprick of cold steel, and he lowered his eyes to see the blade, it's tip resting below his neck. The same blade that Dean had used to save his life, not more than an hour ago.

He nearly collapsed on the floor, right then. The idea that death was so close, so near, really just a few inches away, was more than he could bear.

"I could kill you right now and you wouldn't have the strength to fight me." He whispered.

"People talk about how they could see murderous intent in a killer's eyes or how they're able to tell how good a fighter a person is, just by the way they stood. You, however, are never good at reading people."

Seth didn't know if the glint in his eyes was mischievous or murderous.

It must have been the former because he felt the pressure on his neck disappear.

He raised a hand to his neck and felt his legs turn to jelly when something warm ran down his fingers.

_Oh God, he cut me._

He would have sank to the floor right then, had Dean not placed a hand on his hip to steady him.

The smear of red on his finger made his stomach turn.

"Does it scare you?" Dean asked gleefully.

Seth mumbled something under his breath.

"What? You were saying something?"

"Everything scares me." Seth whispered, unable to look him in the eye.

At this the blonde laughed, and Seth felt tears of frustration spring to his eyes. Of course.

Dean would laugh at him.

Of course. 

He didn't expect someone like him to understand. He had probably never been scared in his life.

He stepped away from him and cold air rushed between their bodies. Seth shivered, suddenly wishing for his warmth.

"That's because you don't know how to fight." He scoffed.

Seth stared at the ground, not finding the strength to look him in the face.

"You could be strong, you know."

His head snapped up to look at him, and for once, he wasn't looking at him with disgust or smirking as if he had just played a prank on him.

"What did you say?" The brunette asked, feeling as if he was playing another one of his cruel jokes.

But instead, he said. "You could be strong if you knew how."

His words rode up his spine, went straight to his brain and suddenly he was feeling all too lightheaded.

_Was this real?_

Dean Ambrose, the one who had continuously belittled him, sneered at his efforts to stand up to a monster…

Was now telling him that he wasn't weak after all.

The ninja was watching his reaction. "Don't get so cocky, I said you could be, not that you are."

"And how can I do that?" Seth asked quietly. He had the feeling that he wasn't going to like what he said next.

The ninja sudden grinned, and in a flash, he was gone. He was still in the room, Seth felt his wind as he passed him by, too fast for his eye to follow.

He had seen this before, it was Dean's ultimate pride: the speed he had.

"You want to be like me?" His words distorted as he talked.

"Untouchable. Invincible. The best assassin in the world."

He knocked over several picture frames as passed by the drawers and Seth let out an indignant cry, rushing over to look at the broken frames.

He heard a thump and suddenly, Dean was standing in the middle of the room, not even breathing hard from his exertion.

"You don't need that." He said dismissively, as Seth brushed away pieces of broken glass from the pictures. It was a picture of his family, taken at the beach, all of them smiling for the camera.

"Don't you feel trapped?" Dean asked.

"Trapped?" Seth had never thought of his life as a cage, but the way Dean asked his question made it sound as if he already knew the answer.

"You should. Hiding up here. Unable to fight or learn. Surrounded by these... Things."

Seth frowned at him as he stood up, unable to understand what Dean was saying.

Did he mean the room?

"Your father is a spoiled businessman. He thinks that throwing money at any problem would solve it. Me. Your bodyguard, this house that your parents pay for."

At this, Seth flared up. "I have a job!"

"Slumming." Dean said softly. "Poor little rich boy trying to prove something to himself."

Seth felt himself deflate at his words. It was true, he could have spent the rest of his life without having to work. But instead, he had taken classes and had signed up as a journalist.

At the time, he kept telling himself that he enjoyed it.

But the pay wasn't that good and he was more than a little tired of throwing himself into danger just to get the latest scoop.

It was true, he had gotten a job because he wanted to believe that he could live without his parents' money.

"You could be something more."

"How?" He asked, hardly daring to breathe. He was still staring at the frame of his family, still smiling up at him. Something dripped onto the picture, wrinkling it's surface.

He refused to believe that it was a tear. He wasn't going to cry, not because of him.

And yet…

It was true, what Dean said, Seth always felt as if he would never be anything more than his parents' son. He could have anything he wanted: a yacht, a dance instructor from one the A-City's finest schools, a plush apartment in the middle of M-City.

But what he wanted was something that his parents couldn't give him.

What he wanted something more than this, this feeling of emptiness, of never having accomplished anything worthwhile.

"I could take you away from here."

"What?" He looked up at Dean, not believing what his ears just heard.

The ninja shrugged as if he hadn't just shook him down to his very core.

"Far away from here, there's a village where I trained. I could take you there. Of course—" He smirked. "You'll never be as good as me, but you'd be something more than some stupid businessman's spoiled son."

"You'd do that?"

Dean stilled like he hadn't been anticipating that particular question. Then he turned away from him. "Don't get me wrong, I pity you, that's all. Surrounded by all these fake people and fake things. I bet you'd never seen anything real in your life."

But his fists clenched as he spoke, and Seth knew that he had just lied.

He stood up, slowly walked over to him. Dean must have heard his footsteps, but he didn't move from his spot. Seth laid a hand on his shoulder, half-expecting him to shrug it off.

"Thank you." He murmured. "For the offer."

Dean turned around to face him, and his eyes seemed to dance. "So you'll do it?" He said eagerly.

He moved closer to Seth, but then visibly stopped himself.

When his words came slower when he next spoke, as if he was trying to control himself. "Of course you'll do it, why wouldn't you? It's not as if anything here is worth staying for."

That was when Seth kneed him in the gut.

He wasn't expecting it, or else he could have dodged it. Instead, he fell to the floor clutching his stomach.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He demanded.

"Fake people? Stupid businessman? You don't get to talk about my friends and family that way!" Seth yelled at him. "Of course, they're worth staying for! Call me whatever names you want, but don’t insult them!"

Seth took a deep steadying breath, feeling the band in his chest ease. Though Dean obviously thought little of them, this was Seth's life, his friends and his family. He had to admit, running away with Dean was enticing. But he couldn't hurt them by just disappearing like that.

"You think I'm weak but I'll show you." He said. "You think that you're the only one who's strong, just because you can fight monsters. I—I'll..." He swallowed, unsure of what he was going to do. "I'll become strong on my own, I don't need to abandon everything I am in the process."

He thought that his actions would anger Dean—he had hurt him, after all—but instead, he suddenly smiled.

Not smirked at him or grinned, he smiled. As if he was genuinely happy.

"Ha, you think you can do it on your own? I doubt it." But his words have lost their edge, and it seemed more teasing than insulting.

This time, Seth held his gaze. "Yes, I can."

The glint in those baby blue eyes was definitely mischievous. He touched his cheek, and the brief contact sent shivers through him.

"I look forward to it."


End file.
